


Why The Long Face?

by HopeCoppice



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Other, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeCoppice/pseuds/HopeCoppice
Summary: After the Apocalypse fails to happen, two of its most enthusiastic supporters meet in a bar.
Relationships: Dagon/War
Kudos: 13
Collections: GO Events - Rare Pairs





	Why The Long Face?

**Author's Note:**

> Do you know how hard it was not to call this "You Can't Be Thwarted Without War"? Really hard. So obviously I titled it after the "a horse walks into a bar..." joke, which is much more sensible. 
> 
> My last contribution to the GO-Events server's minievent - normal service should resume shortly.

It was a little-known fact that Hell had a bar. Of course, because it was in Hell, it was a crappy bar, with terrible service and unknown fluids splattered up the walls. But it was a bar, and it served drinks that were, technically, alcoholic, and after the day Dagon had had it seemed like the appropriate place to go to drown her sorrows.

She pulled up a stool at the bar and snarled at the being at the other end of it, as was customary. The other being did not snarl back.

"Bold, not greeting the Lord of the Files. I could drown you in paperwork for that, you know." But then she took a proper look at the being in question, the vibrant colour of her leathers quite unlike standard Hell clothing, and realised her mistake. "Oh, shit. No. Sorry, Your Horseship."

"Forget it." War huffed. "No point in starting a fight over it."

That didn't sound right, not at all. Dagon had been expecting a discorporation, or at least a firm rebuke, but then she'd also been expecting to lead Hell's armies into a glorious battle against the forces of Heaven, so all bets were off for the day anyway.

"You all right?" She asked, aware that it would probably only make War more miserable, but also aware that as a demon spreading misery was technically a part of her job description.

"Not really. I was defeated by a little girl. With my own sword. And now apparently my services are no longer required."

"No longer-?" Dagon's mouth fell open. "You mean it's all off? Forever?"

"For now," War corrected quietly, though she didn't seem very convinced. "At least the last I heard the traitors behind it all were going to be executed."

"Ah, yeah, about that." Dagon winced. "Turns out they can't be destroyed."

"Really?" War threw her glass against the wall, where it smashed into a thousand angry pieces, and reached for the nearest bottle instead. "Lucky them."

"Well, you weren't destroyed either," Dagon offered helpfully, "maybe it's just a temporary thing and we can kill them some other time."

"Does that seem likely?" War sounded almost hopeful, and Dagon almost felt bad for ruining that.

"Well... they're immune to Hellfire and Holy Water, so... I suppose not, really."

"Great."

War was looking at the bottle in her hand as if she might like to throw that, too, and Dagon didn't fancy sitting here and listening to glass smash all night. Not when there could be better ways to work out their mutual frustration.

"Want to come back to my bunk?"

War regarded her for a moment, then shrugged.

"Fine. But we'll both have a miserable time."

"I'm counting on it," Dagon lied, "I'm a few torment hours short this month."

"Oh, well, then. Allow me to torment you. Or be tormented, I suppose, whichever."

"Whichever works," Dagon agreed easily, and led the way from the bar.


End file.
